Jesus Fucking Christ.

I finally feel safe enough to spend any amount of time typing. If you have been on my Twitter, you'll know why. If not, well, here's a recap.

I went into the city on Friday with a couple of friends to a party. Sober driver, all that jazz. Had a great time, actually. We all did. Even got a chick's number. Lucky me. Anyway, I come back home after dropping off my mates, get inside, boot my computer up to check emails, stuff like that, mix myself a rum and cola and go to the bathroom to take a piss. I didn't actually see him head on. Saw his reflecting in the mirror. Now, my bathroom door is directly across from the mirror, so I can see what's behind the door as I'm opening it. And he was there, waiting. Pretty sure tentacles were involved. I didn't take a good look; The second I saw his general shape I bolted. Grabbed my wallet, keys, sleeping pills and booked it out of there. My own fucking house, and he scares me out of it. Now I know how Noah felt. Poor bastard.

In any case, I drove. I drove for about an hour. Wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Away, was where I wanted to go. I found some shitty roadside motel, got a room, then spent the rest of the night coughing blood. Good times.

First thing I do Saturday is go to a hunting store and buy a fuck-off knife. Not much use on him, but more then enough to deal with any nasties he left behind. Thankfully, there weren't any. The only thing out of place was basically everything; It looked like a fucking tornado had gone through my house.

Oh, and the creepy as shit drawings all over the walls. Looked like something pulled from Alex's book of crazy. I scrubbed off what I could and painted over the rest. Looks fucking awful, but better then having possible magical runes in my house. I did draw a copy of the most common one, though. In a book. That I put in a safety deposit box this morning. Fuck keeping something like that in my house, I watched Severance, damnit. I'm crazy, not stupid. I'll take a photo of it and upload it from a library or net cafe tomorrow.

The sleeping pills have stopped working, as well. I feel like he may have taken the real ones and replaced them. Or his influence is just that strong on me at this point. I'm real fucking scared. He was in my house. My Pā, my fort. He has to have something that keeps him out. I have to find it. Or else I'll wake up one morning reenacting a really bad tentacle hentai with him.

Also, I got a call from one of the friends I had over for dinner last week. He's having trouble sleeping as well, and seeing shit out of the corner of his eye. I didn't say anything. I just hung up.

I need to save him. At least, from being taken by his royal tentacleness.

I may have a use for that knife after all. May Lucifer watch over me, cause God surely won't.